Peace Talks
by DeathSprite
Summary: A brief scene from shore leave on a tropical planet. Archer gives Malcolm some insight into Trip's past. TuckerReed pre-slash.


**Title:** Peace Talks  
**Author:** DeathSprite  
**Disclaimer:** None of the characters or ideas related to Star Trek belong to me. I write for my personal entertainment, including the glee that comes from lots of feedback.  
**Spoilers/Setting:** No specific references to anything, although I know I've played fast and loose with the canonical timeline. But hell, so are the writers.

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"Do you know what Trip was doing when I first met him?"  
The question seemed totally incongruous. Malcolm studied the Captain cautiously out of the corner of his eye. Archer's eyes were planted in the same direction Trip had disappeared in search of more drinks. Malcolm relaxed slightly. Only slightly, though, as he had no idea where this question might lead.  
"Working on the Warp 5 project, I believe," he answered cautiously, only turning his head slightly to face his commanding officer.   
"Close. He was wrestling alligators."  
Malcolm almost fell out of his chair as he turned to fully face Archer. As it was, he knocked over several of the empty bottles stacked carefully between the two chairs.   
"You're not serious!" Malcolm sputtered. Archer sat up a little more carefully. "And how in the hell is wrestling alligators even close to warp engines?"  
Archer chuckled a little. "It does sound strange, doesn't it? And technically, at the time he was on the Warp 5 project, but he was little more than a glorified gopher.   
"Trip was a junior in college at the time, but it was widely acknowledged that he knew more about warp engines than almost anyone -- he could draw the schematics from memory, almost knew more than the designers themselves. Problem was, none of these engineers, many of whom had been working on this project for nearly a decade, wanted to listen to ideas from a kid. I don't think he even got near the prototype more than once in his first seven months there."  
Malcolm nodded. For the most part, this was nothing new. He hadn't really thought about how young Tucker would have had to be in order to be part of the prototype development, but it made sense. And past experience with such biased treatment made him recognize how hard the commander worked to prevent that on the Enterprise. Archer continued his conversation, eyes still searching for Trip's return.  
"I'm sure you probably know this already, but the testing facilities were located in the Gulf of Mexico, less than 30 miles off the coast of Florida. Most of the research portion of the facility was new, state-of-the-art, as high tech as it got. But some of the offices and the residence section of the facility were old, converted from a United States Naval Base that used to be there. It wasn't well-kept, and leaks were often a problem.  
"One of the duties of the personnel, with the exception of some of the higher-ups, was to take turns on 'gator watch.' While alligators aren't on the endangered species list any more, their numbers at the time were still low. And no one would be happy if the alligators got into the ductworks, or the processing facility, which had happened once during construction." Archer grimaced, recalling the havoc that had caused.   
"'Gator watch' was little more than a glorified perimeter patrol. Almost everyone was required to participate, so the shifts were only 3 or 4 hours long. A lot of the personnel complained that it was a waste of their time, but there was no getting out of it. At least, officially. Shifts would sometimes be traded for favors, bribes, the like. Not as often as some would have liked, however, as there were very few people willing to make the trade.   
"Trip was one of the few who would. He was practically born in those waters; and he was young enough to see it as entertainment rather then a chore." Archer chuckled. "He probably still would. But he managed to trade shifts for actual work time with the warp drive. It got to the point where he was trading so many shifts that he was only getting three or four hours of sleep a night, occasionally taking a weekend off to crash. But he was finally getting to work on those engines. He kept working, kept pushing, until he could earn the time with the engines without the extra 'watch' shifts, until he got acknowledged on his own merit. It took him a year and a half, but he did it."  
Archer finally turned to face Malcolm, locking gazes with him. "When Trip wants something, he'll employ any advantage he has, for as long as it takes."  
Malcolm finally broke the stare, looking away and wetting his lips nervously. The captain was obviously trying to impart some message upon him, and Malcolm wasn't sure if it was the one he was receiving or not. Blinking, he deflected the subject away from Archer's last comment.  
"Begging your pardon, sir, but you still haven't explained the ... alligator wrestling..." he said, trying to hide his uncertainty.  
Archer blinked, and leaned back in his chair. He grinned. "That was Trip's summer job, for extra cash. He was always so busy at the Warp 5 site that I had to meet him there. Apparently he started working for the Florida Wildlife Preserve when he was sixteen -- did you know that when he was getting his undergrad degree he minored in zoology?"  
Malcolm could only blink at the swiftness with which the topic had again changed. "Captain, are you --"  
"Sssh, he's coming back." Archer slapped at Malcolm until he lifted his feet back onto the chair, then he began to right the bottles. "Not a word to Trip," he murmured.   
Malcolm could only nod stupidly. His gaze was locked on the returning figure of Trip Tucker -- the man was dressed only in the native equivalent of a sarong, wrapped tight and low around his hips. The fabric hung almost to his ankles in some places, but unlike Malcolm or Archer, Trip had accepted the native garb with ease, the patterns brighter and more garish than any of the horrific Hawaiian shirts he'd brought with him. His skin was bronzed slightly from half a week's worth of shore leave in a tropical clime, and his hair seemed a shade or two lighter as well.   
Tucker passed out the drinks he had gathered, then fell into his own chair with a bounce and a slight grunt. "I miss anything?"  
Archer shook his head. "Malcolm's still going on about how this place reminds him of Malaysia, sans allergies."  
Trip chuckled, and the conversation picked up again. Malcolm half-followed it, his mind's eye drifting down an entirely different path. When they got back to the ship tonight, he and Trip needed to have a serious talk...  



End file.
